In honor of Black History Month we’re delighted to share with you the poetic voice of writer Theodore Mosley, honoring Dr. Martin Luther, King, Jr.
I heard the cries in the night before my life was laid to rest upon the mountaintop of fires.
Heeding the call to resurrect the injustice that was produced in the minds of unfiltered lies.
I began to reach towards heaven for sophisticated words to encounter the molecules of despair.
On the mountaintop I was transfused into a vessel of democracy of love, only to be driven downwards.
Our songs echoed the fields of whips that bloomed the minds of un-rescued dreams of graves crying.
I gave my consent to purchase my time for justice and my love became my prison for humanity.
The Scientology of your dreams began to mascaraed your thoughts for our history of creation.
Freedom of life authorized me to sail the seas of hatred and collect my time from bone collectors.
On the mountaintop I induced the slaves of sharecroppers to forge their walk for endurance.
Shaping the moment of equality, I exposed the truth of knowledge on the fields of blood stain whispers.
Forsaken the enemy, I corralled the lessons of life with my hand entwine with the hands of prayers.
Your freedom of life has you protecting my freedom of choice that coincides with the throne of grace.
On the mountaintop, my wings of melodies have the angels blowing the trumpet to escape your warfare.
Marching with the strength of my ancestors, my territory became my battlefield of unforeseen graves.
The rhapsody of my walk brings the dismantle of my hope and I cry out to each step; freedom lives here.
Singing songs of escapable dreams, the day is met with rays of punishment intended for traps of nature.
On the mountaintop I secure the next generation of love to unite beyond the eyes of devastation.
I bring the harmony of righteousness with my flesh that your labor of love bestowed upon me.
My tears accepted the rivers of brutality that you swiftly caressed me with in the shadows of the sun.
The temperature of your words swelled my equilibrium to offset my standards of living.
On the mountaintop the wings of the spirit cried out to me, “In my FATHER’s house are many mansions”.
Mercy carried me to heights of revelations; grace subdued my steps to the incarnated KING.
With words of correlations, my fight was emptied into submission with my destiny before me.
Persuasive arts of love continued my mind of a soldier, to lay down my flesh only to ignite my battle.
On the mountaintop, the stronghold of my captivity became my freedom from captivity.
Pursued for wickedness, I embodied peace without dissimulation and my walk became my flight risk.
I surrendered my life for life and the Nobel Peace Prize orchestrated my life beyond existence.
Driven for my natural causes from birth, the hands of chaotic pleasures chose to entomb my love.
Chains of deceit, love of confusion and barriers of ignorance, danced my name in midnight meetings.
On the mountaintop, love foreshadowed me with the serenity of doves’ wings as I found the answer.
Searching the hearts of unknown terrorism, the sword of righteousness planted my walk in still waters.
Grieving for humanity, I rose to the epitome of unworthiness to unlock the abyss of moral standards.
Subjected to the microscope of your forensic mind, the beauty of life surpassed my understanding.
My eyes and the spirit of life took me upward; “I have a dream but I may not get there with you”.
On the mountaintop the sea of love flowed down to the valley and I shouted “Free at last free at last”.
Written by Theodore Mosley
March 6, 2015